In the Depths of Your Despair
by CrzA
Summary: "If you wanna be a hero that badly, there's a quick way to do it. Believe that you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life and take a last chance dive off the roof!" Those words fell so easily off his lips, reaching Izuku's ears and seizing his heart in a vice. His body trembled and his eyes started to prickle with the threat of tears. What if Izuku actually went through with it?


"If you wanna be a hero that badly, there's a quick way to do it. Believe that you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life and take a last chance dive off the roof!" Those words fell so easily off his lips, reaching Izuku's ears and seizing his heart in a vice. His body trembled and his eyes started to prickle with the threat of tears.

He should say something, right? He should retaliate. Clenching his teeth, Izuku turned only to be met with those unforgiving eyes and the condescending smirk. "What?" The explosions made him flinch and miserably curl in on himself. He stayed quiet as they left, laughing along with each other at his misery.

Izuku fell back on his chair, alone now with his own thoughts, swimming around in his head, the other's words replaying over and over as if they were a track on a broken record. The tears finally welled over and rolled down his cheeks as he covered his face in his hands. It's not like he hadn't thought about it. He constantly thought about it. Each time Katsuki would beat him up, leave him bruised and bleeding, each time he called him useless. Deku. That's who he was after all. Worthless. Without a quirk how could he ever hope to amount to anything. Maybe… Maybe he was right. After all what did he have to show for his time on earth? A bunch of notebooks filled with useless observations and unrealistic aspirations, one of which had just been tarnished and thrown out the window. Like his hopes and dreams.

 _What's the point?_

More and more often Izuku found himself thinking those words. Wiping his face against the back of his uniform's sleeve, he silently gathered his things and moved for the exit. He was about to make his way down the hall when the words rung loudly in his brain yet again _"Believe you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life and take a last chance dive off the roof!"_

Involuntarily, his gaze drifted towards the stairs that led up towards the roof. _"Useless Deku, you can't do anything." "You'll never be a hero." "Huh? Midoriya?! No way!" "You can't get into the hero course just by studying." "I'm sorry, Izuku."_

Ah… That's right… Not even his mother believed in him. After all, he was born quirkless. What could he ever hope to achieve? How could he save people if he could hardly defend himself? Katsuki made that very clear each and every time Izuku tried to stand up to him. Without realizing it, he found himself standing outside, on top of the roof, staring down at the ground over the ledge.

He should back away, this is dangerous. He shouldn't be here, why had he come here in the first place? As if his feet had a mind of their own, he climbed onto the ledge. His mother loves him, even if she also thinks his dreams are impossible to achieve. She wouldn't want him here. He should step away, go home, eat dinner and talk about his day. He saw those heroes that morning, that was exciting. Heroes he could never really work alongside. Heroes like he could never hope to be.

 _What's the point?_

Logically, he knew he shouldn't be here. He knew things could be worse, that there were people out there with much more reason to feel this way. But… Katsuki's words kept sounding in his ears. So many years of hearing them over and over again, how useless he was, how defenceless and worthless, meaningless. He didn't matter, not really. Right? Why else would he say such things?

Izuku realised he was crying again. He was always crying, wasn't he? That's all he could do. Maybe Katsuki is right, maybe if he jumps things will be better. Just maybe. And a 'maybe' seemed a thousand times more appealing than the bleak existence he found himself in at that very moment. It's not like he hadn't thought about it before. His feet scuffled forward and he stared down at the pavement. Just one step. That was all it would take.

He should be scared of falling. His heart should be beating hard in his ears, a lump in his throat and alarms going off in his head to get to a safer spot. But all he could feel was this dull ache in his chest, the tears streaming down his cheeks and the way his teeth were gnawing into his bottom lip. All he could hear was Katsuki telling him to take a dive off the roof and how inside his head that sounded so appealing. He was useless and worthless. He was quirkless. He would never do anything of worth with this existence.

 _What's the point?_

Izuku stepped forward and fell.

* * *

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

Slowly, heavy lidded eyes opened, pupils contracting under the sudden assault of artificial light and making him flinch. The air smelled of antiseptic, sterile and dry and he could see nothing but that milky white above him. His head was heavy too, as if it weighed more than the world itself and he could hardly lift it, let alone look around. His body didn't fare much better, a numb soreness spreading through his veins, painful yet somehow not, and his chest felt like it was being pushed down, making it particularly hard to breathe.

It felt like he had fallen off a roof.

A fuzzy memory of him standing over a ledge flooded his muddled mind and he closed his eyes again. _Oh, I guess I did, huh?_

It was a nonchalant thought, and Izuku wasn't sure if it was due to the sedatives being pumped into his veins at a steady rate or if he simply didn't care. Whichever it was, he almost felt disappointed that he had actually woken up. Vaguely, he wondered how it was that he survived, a fall from that high should have been fatal, he was sure of it. For a moment he thought that he may have dreamed the whole thing, that he hadn't actually done it, but when he tried to move and his entire body complained in pain, he knew that wasn't the case. Frankly, he didn't even know the extent of the damage.

It was only when his eyes swept the room and landed on his mother's crying frame by his bedside that he actually felt anything beyond this disconnected apathy and careless disregard for his life. He felt guilty that he'd put her through that, sad that he actually got to that point, angry at himself for giving in.

The sob that broke out of him was what alerted Inko to the fact that he was awake, and as soon as she saw him moving she wrapped her arms around him, carefully as to not disturb any of his injuries but tight enough to be sure that he was actually there and breathing.

"Izuku!" Her voice was strangled and hoarse, like she'd been crying for hours and for all he knew, that could very well be the case. "Izuku, what were you thinking?!" _That I'm useless and there's no point to me being alive, that I'll never be worth anything in my life._ He couldn't tell her _that_ , now could he? Instead, he just cried into her hair, biting back the sobs that shook his shoulders painfully. "Standing at places like that is dangerous, you could've…" Ah… She didn't know. She didn't know that was the whole point. He didn't leave a note, did he? That was selfish, but maybe it was better that way. Or perhaps she did know, but she didn't want to admit it. He didn't blame her, who would want to think their child would ever do something like this. She pulled back and brushed his tears away with her thumbs, her hands framing his face. "Why didn't you say anything?" His mother choked out, her red rimmed eyes overflowing. "I could've helped you."

So, she _did_ know. But Izuku couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was already useless so he didn't want to be bothersome as well. He couldn't tell her that no matter what she said she could never tell him what he really wanted to hear, that he could become a hero. He couldn't. Katsuki was right, he was just Deku.

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say. It wouldn't cut it, he knew, it felt hollow after what he did. But there was nothing else he could tell her.

"Oh, Izuku…"

There was an explosion from outside the room and he jolted, crying out when the pain spread through him at the sudden movement. He caught a glimpse of ashy blonde hair going past the door and felt fear grip at his heart. Izuku could already hear the words. _"You're so useless you couldn't even kill yourself right."_

Shrinking in on himself he bit the inside of his cheek to stop from crying even more, his mother following his line of sight and telling him that Katsuki had been waiting outside since he heard the news. Izuku wondered why but the only answer he could come up with was that he'd come to chastise him for not being able to finish the job.

Inko had to notify the doctors who came to check up on his condition after that. He was informed that someone had seen him fall, a telekinetic who managed to slow down his momentum enough to prevent death. Even so, he hadn't escaped unscathed, fractured ribs, a badly broken leg, fractured skull, mild concussion. According to the doctor he'd suffered from internal haemorrhaging as well but a girl with a healing quirk had somehow managed to patch him up enough to last until the ambulance arrived. He was very lucky, the doctor said. Izuku wouldn't have agreed but he just put on a small smile on his face before leaning back into the bed and closing his eyes when the doctor started talking about therapy for his mental condition.

"I'm tired." Izuku said simply, it wasn't exactly a lie, he felt exhausted, but all he wanted was for him to stop talking. He didn't want to hear about all the options available to him to deal with his depressive thoughts, he didn't want to hear about how he could deal with his feelings of despair, guilt and dejection. The solutions to all his problems in a bottle of pills… As if. None of that would ever stop him from being useless and it wouldn't make his dreams come true. And after yet another failure to add to his long mental collection, Izuku just didn't want to think anymore.

The sedatives were taking their toll on him anyway.

It wasn't until his eyes fluttered open later that day that he finally met the angry red eyes he could go without seeing for at least another few days. His mother must have left for one reason or another and let Katsuki inside, possibly to keep an eye on him in case he woke up, though he didn't exactly want to be watched over by him of all people. He couldn't blame his mother for worrying though, and it wasn't like anyone else was there. Why would there be? No one else really cared but her. Which begged the question, why was Katsuki here to begin with?

As soon as he noticed Izuku was no longer asleep, Katsuki stalked over to the side of his bed, lips pulled back in a snarl as he tugged on the collar of the hospital gown he was wearing, pulling him slightly off the pillows he was propped up against. Izuku flinched and groaned at the dull ache in his chest.

"What the fuck, Deku?!" The question was hushed, the fact that he was in a hospital room probably the only reason for the lower volume, and Izuku found himself unable to understand the question altogether. It must've showed on his face because the other boy didn't waste a second to clarify. "You say you wanna be a hero then you go and nearly get yourself killed?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Izuku almost laughed. What _wasn't_ wrong with him? For a second he wondered if that 'nearly' was because he thought it had actually been an accident or if it was just contempt for not actually succeeding. Either way, the urge to dissolve into boisterous laughter was quickly replaced by one to break down into sobs, his emotions flipping a 180 so fast they could give him whiplash and leaving his head spinning.

He choked back the first few, biting on his bottom lip as he felt the salty hot tears tracing tracks down his cheeks and blur his sight of the angry face in front of his. "You were right Kacchan." A hiccup shook his body aggressively. "You've always been right. I-I'm useless. I c-can never be l-like you, I can never be a h-hero, I'll never be worth a-a-anything. _What's the point?_ "

Katsuki's grip on Izuku slackened and his hard expression shifted as he watched him fall back on the fluffed pillows and fall apart. "I'd j-just be better off d-ead. At least then I w-wouldn't be a b-bother." The other's mouth fell open but he didn't say anything as Izuku continued. "But I c-can't even do that right, huh?" A tiny, bitter laugh left his lips then, morphing into a high-pitched cry as he leaned his head back and whimpered in both pain and anguish.

"Oi…" Katsuki mumbled, for once at a loss for words, hovering over the smaller boy covered in bandages from head to toe, in a puddle of his own tears. Seeing Izuku cry wasn't really anything new to him, he'd been at the top of the reasons he did more often than not and he never really thought anything of it. But he'd never seen him like _this_. Sure, he cried often, and he cried hard, but Katsuki had never seen him this… _defeated, broken, miserable, crushed_. Any other time it might even be that he would've found it amusing but at that very moment all he felt was… Was… "What are you saying…"

Izuku either didn't hear him or wasn't able to answer through the violent sobs that made him tremble, loud even as he covered his mouth with his right arm, biting into it to keep from actually wailing with his eyes screwed shut so he didn't have to look at Katsuki. He shook Izuku by the shoulder lightly. "Deku, what are you fucking saying?" His voice was stiff and low, almost like a threatening growl but with a hint of something else he couldn't quite place. The boy just kept crying, curling in on himself and mumbling something unintelligible that Katsuki strained to hear. When the words 'I shouldn't be here, I should've died' reached his ears, he let go of Izuku's shoulder, the room closing in around him as he stumbled backwards and onto the tiled floor.

That unknown feeling multiplied a hundred-fold, taking over him and clenching his throat tightly. Somewhere off in a distance, almost as if his ears were stuffed full of cotton, he heard the startled gasp of Midoriya Inko as she ran towards her son who was struggling for breath and weeping in a mix of agony from his broken bones and his broken spirit. Picking himself up off the floor, Katsuki staggered towards the door in a daze, the words 'I'm sorry' on the tip of his tongue, though they didn't actually make it out of his mouth. They felt foreign and for a moment that realisation only made the feeling worse. He made it to the hall and leaned against the outside wall, weaving a hand through his hair and willing the room around him to stop spinning. He heard the deafening sobs from inside the room die down into low whines until they stopped altogether and Katsuki risked a glance inside.

Izuku was deathly pale but for the red of his nose and lids, his eyes closed and his head laying limply on his mother's shoulder. He was so still that the only indication that he was still alive was the steady beeping of the heart monitor attached to his index finger, even his breaths so shallow they were hardly enough to move his bandaged chest. Inko had increased the sedatives just enough to put him to sleep, stopping his emotional breakdown before he could injure himself further. There was a red line trickling down Izuku's right arm, teeth marks imprinted into the skin, such was the force with which he'd been gnawing at it.

The pained expression the green eyes that so closely resembled Izuku's directed at him tightened the vice in his chest and Katsuki let out a trembling breath, only then realising he was shaking. He was used to shaking with anger, he was used to shaking with excitement, but this feeling was entirely unfamiliar and wholly terrifying. He was somewhat aware of her asking what had happened but it sounded so far away, and he didn't even know how to answer. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the scene, a mother holding onto her unresponsive son who laid on a hospital bed, broken in more ways than one and… It was all his fault.

Katsuki felt a cold shiver run down his spine and bile rise up in his throat. It was all he could do to push down the sickening feeling before he actually heaved, his knees feeling weak and his head light as the room started to once again warp around him. Steadying himself against the door frame, he gripped his chest, fingers curling around his shirt and mimicking the tightness within.

Inko must've confused his reaction for concern because she quietly promised him that Izuku would be fine, adding the 'eventually' a little lower but not enough that he wouldn't hear it, carefully placing her son comfortably back onto the pillows. It repulsed him that she was trying to reassure _him_ for some reason, made that uncomfortably intense feeling even more overwhelming. His palms prickled with the urge to blow something up, as they often did, and small bursts sounded in the quiet of the room.

"Are you okay?"

 _No, but why are you even_ asking me _?_ "Fine." It sounded choked and fake and the understanding gaze Inko aimed at him made Katsuki sick all over again. He watched her brush stray locks of hair away from Izuku's face before excusing himself, the death grip around his heart getting tighter and tighter the further he walked. The compassion Inko had to offer him weighed heavily on his shoulders, Izuku's poor state strangled him, making it hard to breathe and even harder to think.

He felt angry, or rather, he felt like he should feel angry. That was his default after all, and Izuku's actions had pissed him off beyond reason as soon as he'd heard about him being in the hospital. Because, _how could he?_ Every god damn day, going on about how he wanted to be a hero and then just like that… _How fucking dare he?_

But after hearing him, _seeing_ him like that, watching someone he was so used to hating for the easy smiles, reassuring gazes and the quick rise to help anyone in need, utterly and completely _break_ … It shouldn't have affected him as much as it did. _"You were right Kacchan. You've always been right."_ Of course he was right, he was always right.

But was he, though? This sense of self-doubt was something he was entirely unused to, and coupled with the uneasy and heavy feeling of _guilt_ , it only made things more confusing and just _too much_. For once, if he was right, Katsuki didn't _want_ to be. Guilt wasn't something he felt. Guilt wasn't something he was supposed to feel. It ate away at him from the inside, clawing and corroding, festering like an infected wound and spreading, spreading, spreading…

When he stepped into the outside air, he immediately turned to the closest trash bin and exploded a dent into it, letting his building frustration out with an angry shout of "Fucking Deku!". People shot him sideways glances on their way in or out of the hospital, one old man muttering "Kids these days" under his breath. It all served to spark his irritation further, making him teeter on the very edge of blind rage as he turned and kicked a rock right into the wall.

Katsuki didn't know what to do with himself then. He could count on one hand the times that had happened in the entirety of his life. The only other time he could think of was when Izuku had offered him help when he fell from that bridge all those years ago. That feeling of helplessness the mere offer instilled in him, that he would think he'd need his help to begin with… He couldn't explain it and he didn't like it, so he turned to hate and anger instead. He always turned to those in the end.

This time wasn't much different, these feelings he couldn't understand and didn't know how to deal with were clouding his thoughts, consuming him slowly but surely and he hated it. But the more he thought back to the picture of Izuku shattering into a mess of broken pieces that burned into his mind and the _reason_ for it… Years and years of insults, fights and offhanded comments came flooding in. Katsuki didn't feel remorse, he didn't feel guilty. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He was supposed to be better than everyone.

And all of a sudden, the reason why he was so angry at Izuku for what he'd done couldn't be clearer. Because how could he be chastising him for doing something a hero would never do when he himself had driven him to it? He did tell him to do it, didn't he? He did push him closer and closer to that ledge every single day, with every insult and every time he called him useless, didn't he? This anger he felt was because the guilt that filled his insides with a smothering and heavy darkness was justified. It wasn't because Izuku had so easily given up, because he hadn't, not easily at least. It was because he'd done so much harm, that the cheerful and happy go lucky kid he knew from his childhood was slowly chipped away until there was nothing left but despair.

 _How can I ever hope to be a hero when I've made someone want to die this badly?_ He dragged his feet all the way home and his parents wondered why they didn't hear the usual shouting when he arrived. He locked himself in his room and for the whole night he wondered _What's the point?_

* * *

The house felt awfully quiet. Mitsuki looked at the watch on her wrist and frowned. At this point Katsuki should be shouting up the place, halfway out the door with his unfinished breakfast because he couldn't 'stand to look at her face anymore' as he so gracefully put it. Turning her head towards his room she shouted after him, if only to fill the silence that felt so out of place in their home.

"Hey Katsuki! Get off your ass, you're gonna be late!"

"Fuck off!" The angry reply came almost immediately and her scowl only deepened. The little bastard was awake after all. With a sigh she carefully dropped what she was doing and ran a hand through her hair.

Stomping to her son's bedroom she replied with a level tone that had a sharp edge to it she had designed over the years especially for dealing with his foul moods. "Is that any way to talk to your mother? I didn't raise you to be a delinquent and skip school!"

When she threw the door open she found Katsuki's room shrouded in darkness. It took her a moment to search through it until she found him, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. He was huddled in a corner of his bed, his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on his crossed legs. His shoulders were slouched and his whole posture just screamed tension and distress. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before and it overall just seemed like he hadn't slept at all.

Immediately, Mitsuki's hard expression melted, her gaze softening as she took in the state of her son, a heavy and brooding aura surrounding him. For a moment the thought that she should have expected something like this crossed her mind, the fact that Katsuki always put up such a hard and furious front causing her to sometimes forget that he was still just a teen. Promptly stepping inside, she made her way to him. "Is this about your friend?" She asked carefully, voice meticulously calculated.

The almost instantaneous explosion that lit up the dark room paired with the rage filled gaze Katsuki directed at her was enough to answer her question, despite the response that followed. "He's not my friend!" He shouted, lips pulling back in a snarl and his whole body tensing with the urge to break something, anything. Then, as quickly as he'd exploded, Katsuki completely deflated, head hanging low as he growled lowly. " _I'm_ not his friend."

"Katsuki…" She started, moving her hand to stroke his hair, only to have her wrist caught in her son's own hand, the intense and angry look in his crimson eyes making her lips pull into a taut line.

"Don't." He said simply, the word as strained as his expression. "Don't you give me that look too. Fucking stop it." He threw her hand away from his face and moved off the bed, pulling a jacket from somewhere off the floor where he'd most likely thrown it, shrugging it onto his shoulders.

His mother followed his movements quietly, letting him leave the room before going right after with a concerned expression twisting her features. "Where are you going?"

"Out." The answer was as curt as it sounded, the door slamming after him and once again leaving the house too quiet. She never knew that she'd actually miss the ruckus her reckless son usually caused, but then again, any mother would feel their heart clench at watching their child slowly come apart at the seams.

* * *

He walked with his head hung low, grinding his teeth so hard it could almost be heard by any passers-by that might be close enough to listen. Katsuki's whole body itched to release the tension that was slowly building up within him, to scream, shout and kick. As the moments passed, with each breath he took, the guilt weighed heavier and heavier in his chest.

Aimlessly wandering, Katsuki found himself on the familiar way to his school, only realising it when he stood by the front door and next to the dark stain on the pavement that they couldn't quite clean out. His gaze lifted up to the roof and his hands clenched to fists when his brain easily provided him with the image of Izuku standing over the ledge, his expression sombre and his eyes wet with tears. He turned on his heels ready to leave, to go anywhere but that place that made the sinking feeling in his stomach worse yet, but his eyes caught a glimpse of Koi carps nibbling at something with earnest in one of the little ponds by the building.

Without thinking, Katsuki went to take a closer look, the smudged words on the tarnished notebook shooting through him like a bullet, painful and wounding. _Hero analysis for the future no. 13_

Immediately he felt the urge to blow it up all over again, but that was quickly replaced with an inexplicable tug at his arm to reach for it. Rolling up his sleeve, he dug it out of the water, the fish scurrying away as soon as they saw his hand getting closer. The thing was sopping wet, the pages tearing off in chunks and the words probably illegible at this point. It had stayed in the water for so long it was no longer salvageable. He might as well throw it into the trash where it belonged.

But something he couldn't quite place made Katsuki pause before doing it. The title swimming around in his mind for longer than he would care to admit. Thirteen notebooks. Izuku had written thirteen notebooks about heroes, references for a future he'd hoped to achieve and thought about every day. And somehow, Katsuki had made him give up on all of that.

Not somehow, he knew very well everything he'd done.

That made it worse, that for the longest time he didn't even think twice about it and now it was all he could think about. It wouldn't leave him alone, it kept rolling around in his head, years and years of abuse he was responsible for that just wouldn't stop replaying like a shitty movie. The big finale was Izuku's breakdown in that sterile hospital room, the injuries covered by thin layers of white gauze or the sheets over his legs. Injuries from a fall in which he'd intended to die. Because of him. Squeezing his eyes shut he resisted the impulse to throw the mess of sodden paper against the wall.

Instead, Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance and tucked the wet notebook under his arm and his hands into his pockets then started walking once again. He didn't know what he was going to do with the ruined piece of crap. He didn't even know why he hadn't just thrown it out to begin with. He kicked at a rock on the sidewalk, his features twisted into a deep scowl that anyone who knew him might find completely normal, but his brows were furrowed in a thoughtful manner that was unusual even for him.

It was maddening, all these feelings he wasn't used to feeling, let alone dealing with, the way they made it hard for him to focus on anything else, putting thoughts in his head that had no right being there. All his life, Katsuki had believed that he was great, powerful and meant for amazing things, that no one else mattered because no one else could compare. Yet now, all he felt was inadequate and… unworthy… It was infuriating and disheartening all at the same time. When before he was always sure of his movements and actions, now he kept second-guessing himself, every little thing he felt the urge to do was being held back with a wave of guilt and uncertainty.

He found himself stopping at the entrance of some convenience store, the soppy notebook still under his arm and drenching his jacket. With an annoyed huff, Katsuki stepped in and picked up a new one, slapping it onto the counter angrily and startling the girl who was playing on her phone behind it. He ignored her as she went on with the regular spiel while checking the item out, digging money out of his pockets and leaving it on the counter before turning on his heels without even taking the change. She could keep it for all he cared, it's not like he needed it for anything or whatever.

Why was he even doing this? _What_ was he even doing?

With a sigh, Katsuki started on his way back home, fuming but less so, biting into the inside of his cheek much the same way the nasty feelings were still eating away at his insides. To his relief, no one was there when he arrived, stealing some food out of the fridge before sitting at his desk in his room. He stared from the old notebook to the new, arms crossed over his chest and face contorted into a displeased scowl.

"Fuck this." He growled, pushing away from the desk and standing up to storm out of the room and probably go to the gym to let his anger out or something. But he stopped at the door, hand hovering over the handle and shaking slightly, Izuku's crying face flashing before his eyes in a myriad of scenarios, a time-lapse of the years passing and his face is always the same. Wet and filled with sadness, the common denominator of every single situation being _him_.

 _There were times when he wasn't like that._ He told himself over and over, and each and every one he could think of, Izuku was going on about heroes and how he wanted to be one. Those notebooks were never far away, whichever reiteration sitting in his backpack, ready for him to keep filling it with his stupid little notes and drawings.

"God damn it." Katsuki's palms itch with an inbound explosion, a tiny blast forming a little cloud of smoke as he stomps back to the desk and sits down with an annoyed huff. "Stupid fucking Deku."

Picking up a pen, Katsuki scratched the words onto the front: _Hero analysis for the future no. 13_. He paused for a moment, the tip hanging over the paper until he adds a _.5_ in front of the _13_. After all, this wasn't the original. _And whose fault is that?_ He grumbled under his breath at his own invasive thoughts, as accurate as they may be, still annoying and unwanted. Rubbing at his tired eyes, the fact that he hadn't caught a wink of sleep the night before catching up to him, Katsuki turned the first page of the old notebook. What he found was a mess of blotched ink, words almost impossible to read and drawings warped beyond recognition. The urge to blow it to bits came back full force but he shoved it down with the unbearable guilt that came with it.

He ran a hand through his spiked hair with a grunt. "For fuck's sake, what am I even doing…"

* * *

Izuku woke to hushed voices coming from somewhere by his feet. He debated with himself whether or not he should actually open his eyes, given that it seemed like all he'd been doing was sleeping and he still felt like there wasn't much for him to be awake for. Everything still hurt, at least while he was asleep it was just numb darkness enveloping his mind. He could forget everything that happened and what the future held for him. A whole lot of pain and suffering, broken hopes and shattered dreams. So much to look forward to… He'd rather just sleep.

"Izuku…?" His mother's voice called softly, tentatively. It was as if she was testing the waters, almost like she actually knew that he was already awake but was still giving him the choice to reveal it or not.

Sighing, Izuku slowly opened his eyes to the bright hospital lights, lifting his bandaged arm to rub at them before they focused on the figures in front of the bed. The first thing he noticed was Katsuki's deep scowl, his narrowed red eyes, underlined by dark bags, glaring daggers his arm's way and making him want to flinch. But that would be painful so he just stared back impassively, unsure if the fear actually showed in his expression. He averted his gaze, looking instead at his mother's equally tired face, the small muted smile that had lost almost all of its glow sending a fresh pang of guilt through him. Honestly, either one was difficult to look at. He let his lids fall closed again, croaking out a lifeless "Hi" to let them know he was awake enough to listen to whatever they had to say.

"Katsuki brought some of his mother's buns you love so much." The boy in question only grunted in acknowledgement.

"They've got me on an IV." Izuku pointed out in return, waving his right hand to emphasize the fact as the tube wiggled with his movements. He looked at her again, forcing a small smile to his chapped lips. "You love them just as much, don't let them go to waste. I've got all the nourishment I need."

"R-right… um…" His mother looked between him and Katsuki, who was still frowning at his right arm like it had personally offended him. Izuku instinctively recoiled it, hugging it to his chest as the other clicked his tongue irritably. Feeling a hand resting gently on his thigh, Izuku turned to Inko. "I'm going out for some fresh air. You boys play nice, alright?"

Once again, Katsuki's sole response was a low noise from somewhere deep in his throat while he mumbled a subdued "Alright", though what he wanted to actually say was more along the lines of _"It's not like I could do anything to him before, look at me now"_. Avoiding looking at Katsuki altogether, he simply heard his heavy footfalls as he stepped closer. The beeping of his heart monitor picked up considerably and Izuku inwardly kicked himself for not being able to keep his emotions in check even now. Forcing himself to look at Katsuki, the beeping got so much faster he was worried that someone might actually come check if he wasn't dying.

As soon as his eyes met the blonde's, Katsuki moved his arm towards him and Izuku flinched backwards, his eyes squeezing shut and his arms jumping to shield his face. A small pained whimper escaped his lips from the quick movement, his broken ribs complaining harshly and the monitor's noises loud in his ears.

"Tch. I'm not gonna hurt you, damn nerd." Katsuki growled lowly, and he risked a glance at him, lowering his arms when he saw his childhood friend hunched in on himself unlike ever before.

Slower this time, he lifted his right arm, and Izuku noticed that he was holding something out to him. He stared at the hand, a brand-new notebook hanging from it. His jade eyes widened slightly when he read the words written on the cover. _That can't be… He blew it up and threw it out the window… It was a different colour too…_ Izuku's gaze flitted to the other's face, his heart rate finally slowing to slightly reasonable beats per minute, yet still a little accelerated.

"Take it!" Izuku's breath stuttered frightfully at the harshness in Katsuki's tone, and he curled in on himself once more. Katsuki slapped a hand to his forehead, making him flinch again, and groaned loudly, carefully placing the notebook on his covered lap. "Shit, I didn't mean… Just… Here." He spoke with the familiar hardness Izuku was so used to, but there was an undertone of something else there too, an attempted gentleness that was entirely out of place in his childhood friend and lifelong bully.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Izuku reached for the pad with shaking hands, watching as Katsuki backed away from his bedside, almost as if to hold a distance between them that he might find more comfortable. But that couldn't be it, because since when had Katsuki ever considered his feelings?

Wary, he flipped to the first page, gasping quietly at the chicken-scratch of an excuse for a drawing there, added notes in Katsuki's somehow obviously angry handwriting, mimicking what he had written in his own version. There were some details missing, some words followed by numerous question marks that indicated uncertainty as to whether it was correct or not. Izuku looked up from his lap to see Katsuki staring down at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the room, hands shoved in his pants' pockets. It was then that he realised he was wearing exactly the same clothes as the day before. Crimson eyes shifted over to him and the bags under them looked even more jarring on his shadowed features, expression twisted in something that wasn't quite just anger.

"I know that it's not the same. I'm not good at those fucking artsy shits you do all the time and… Fuck, that piece of shit was soaked through, I couldn't make out half the words but I fucking tried, alright?"

Izuku turned back to the notebook, flipping through pictures and incomplete notes of hero after hero he'd seen over the past month, landing on the last one he'd encountered: Mt. Lady. This must've taken an awful lot of work to do in just a few hours. There shouldn't be anything else after that, but he turned the page anyway and came face to face with an ill-achieved drawing of Katsuki himself, or at least Izuku thought it was him, wearing a flashy outfit. When Izuku looked up, he caught the other staring for just a moment before he snapped his gaze to the wall, a hint of red staining the tips of his ears.

"Since I know you watched me too I added that to make up for the damn things I didn't get." Katsuki huffed, voice slightly strained. "It's my hero costume design that I made and some notes on my quirk… If you're fucking interested, anyway. You can just rip that shit out otherwise."

"Kacchan…" Izuku murmured, throat tight with the struggle to hold back sobs. He failed, however, a harsh hiccup shaking his sore body and tears springing to his eyes before streaming down his cheeks. Katsuki's head shot back to him, eyes wide and something Izuku recognised as guilt flashing through them.

"Shit, you're not supposed to be fucking crying, the fuck did I do now?"

Bringing his arm to wipe at his eyes, Izuku shook his head weakly, sobbing into the crook of his elbow as he tried to get himself together enough to actually answer with a stuttered "Nothing". He kept crying softly into his arm, whimpering every so often at the pain the heaving sobs erupted from his ribs, and Katsuki just stood there, arms hovering in front of him and reaching towards Izuku without actually knowing what to do. Izuku gathered his wits, taking deep breaths in between involuntary hiccups and willing his tears to stop flowing. Rubbing them from his face with the back of his left hand, he wiped the tiny droplets that had fallen on the notepad still open over his lap.

"I-I'm sorry… I s-smudged it…" He sobbed again, feeling a little guilty and his throat scratching painfully when he spoke.

"It's fine…" Katsuki eased his way closer taking care not to make any sudden movements. He started scratching at the back of his neck, his features still contorted into an angry glower but still somehow softer than normal.

"It suits you." Izuku attempted to sound lighter, but his voice was still small and his body language still screamed unease and fear, but he was trying to be more relaxed, much the same way Katsuki was trying to be less aggressive. Neither was doing a very good job, but they were trying, and that's what mattered for now. It was progress.

"Damn right."

"But um…" He continued, taking a deep breath before facing the other. "You might want to work on the name. I don't think anything with 'kills' in it would sound very heroic."

Katsuki scoffed, but it wasn't disdainful, and that took Izuku by surprise. He was sure that comment would've elicited at least a handful of explosions to his face. Instead, all he got was a hint of a glare and an eye roll. "And use what? A fucking nerdy All Might knock off, like you?"

Izuku's shoulders shook with a small laugh, not entirely humourless and devoid of any life, like he might've expected. "Something like that…" He trailed off with a sigh, thinking back to all those names he'd thought up as a kid. He hadn't intended any of them to see the light of day, but Katsuki had gotten into his bag and dug that particular notebook out. He'd mocked his choices then too, but today it seemed a little less hostile and more, dare he say, playful? "Not like I'll ever make use of them anyway…" His thoughts quickly started taking a turn for the worst, his depression returning full-force from its momentary halt at their little exchange.

"Tch."

The noise was harsh in Izuku's ears, even more so coupled with the _boom_ that sounded from Katsuki's palms, the beeping of his heart suddenly chirping in fast successions and the tears already pricking at his eyes. He waited to hear a snide comment, some off-handed insult, his entire body cringing to brace himself for a hit that never came. Instead he heard a mumble of unintelligible words, so much quieter than he'd ever heard Katsuki be, since even his inside voice demanded attention. Izuku gulped, letting out a trembling breath before looking up and seeing the other with his jaw clenched his body tensed.

"I'm sorry."

It took several moments for Izuku to process those words, repeated as they seemed, as he was stared down by harsh red eyes. He was used to see nothing but hate and resentment in them, disdain and contempt, but what he saw then was apprehension, guilt and a plea. A plea for forgiveness. Izuku didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do, so he just gawked, mouth slightly agape, vaguely aware of the wetness on his cheeks. He wasn't even sure of _why_ exactly he was crying, just that he couldn't stop it. For a moment he considered that maybe he was high on the pain meds and he'd just imagined the whole thing but if that were the case it wouldn't justify what came next unless he was having some sort of fever dream.

"What the fuck am I saying? Why would you ever accept that shitty excuse for an apology." Katsuki shrugged and Izuku just kept gaping at him. "I get it. Nothing I ever do will make up for what I did to you. You owe me no damn forgiveness." He kicked at the air, eyebrows pulling together and mouth forming a taut line. Izuku could almost swear there was a sheen to his eyes but he wouldn't dare entertain the thought for longer than the split second that it flitted into his mind. "But don't fucking say shit like that. I know I'm the last person to be telling you that now but… Fuck." He punched the wall he's closest to and Izuku flinched, whining at the sudden pang of pain. "Shit, I didn't mean to scare you again." Katsuki pulled his face into his hands and screams into them. "God damn it! I'm not good at this shit!"

"Kacchan." His voice called without even going to his brain for permission first, just spilling out of him unwarranted, choked with the sobs he was holding back. Downcast, Izuku's gaze dropped to the notebook on his lap and he closed it with a heaving breath. "It's fine. You were right anyway. I'm Deku, right? And I mean, look at me, if I still had any hope of becoming a hero I definitely can't do it now. I'm useless, I always will be." Shoving the pad back towards Katsuki, the first few sobs start to break through his broken body. His broken body that he won't ever be able to use for anything other than being a burden. "Why would you need forgiveness for being right?" Izuku's voice was nothing but a whisper now, strained and full of pain.

"Shut up!" Katsuki's shout only made him curl on himself further, as much as he could with his broken ribs anyway. He felt a hand grabbing his chin with brute force, yet surprisingly it didn't hurt him, forcing emerald eyes to look up into crimson ones. "I know I'm a god damn hypocrite for saying this, but shut the fuck up. It's not fucking true. I was wrong. You're not useless, you're not… You're not fucking Deku." He let go of his face then, running his hands through his hair in frustration as he backed away towards the end of the room. "For fuck's sake, you're better than I'll ever be. I feel so fucking guilty and mad at _myself_. What the fuck kind of hero would I be if you actually died? What the fuck is the point of being a hero if instead of saving you I'm the one who fucking _killed you_?!" There were tears on his cheeks now too, and Izuku almost couldn't believe it. "I can't fucking stand to see you like this. It's like screaming proof of my god damn failure as a person."

Katsuki leaned against a wall and slid down to a sitting position, his face hidden behind his knees. "It wasn't your fault…" Izuku found himself saying, drawing a bitter laugh out of his childhood friend.

"Don't fucking lie to me." He spat back, raising wet red-rimmed eyes towards him from the floor. "You were so fucking bubbly as a kid it made me sick. Look what I made of you. Now I'm sick at myself. I've never felt like this before and I don't know what to fucking do. I'm so fucking sorry for doing this to you."

"Okay…" He didn't know what else to say to that, he felt like he should probably say that he forgave him, but he couldn't. At least not yet. It was still too fresh of a wound, still gaping open and bleeding deep inside him, still making him wish he was dead. He didn't know if he could ever fully forgive Katsuki but he didn't want to tell him that either. It wasn't like he wanted him to feel like this, he didn't wish him any harm. But despite the almost unbearable need he felt to take other's pain away, his was still too great for him to be able to. Anything he said to Katsuki would just sound like a lie, and Katsuki could tell. "But that doesn't change the facts, Kacchan. I'll never be a hero, just like you said."

Wiping at his face with the back of his shirt, Katsuki shot back to his feet and stalked over to his bedside. "Fuck that shit." He grumbled, a tiny explosion creating smoke around his right palm as he set it on the pillow by Izuku's head. "You're gonna get out of this shitty hospital, you're gonna get fixed up and you're gonna fucking get into Yuuei!"

It was Izuku's turn to laugh without any hint of humour, wincing at the shift in his injured ribs. "And how am I gonna do that broken on top of quirkless?" It was a rhetorical question more than anything but it seemed as if Katsuki took it as some sort of challenge.

"The hero course isn't the only thing they have, you're a shitty nerd, aren't you? Fucking use that brain of yours. I'll fucking train you myself too, if I have to."

"Kacchan…" He opened his mouth to protest but was instead interrupted by a loud "Hah?!" on the other's behalf.

"I'm gonna have to live with this fucking nauseous feeling for as long as I live, but I'm sure as fuck not gonna let that stop me from getting what I want. And if that means I'm gonna have to personally lift you back up from where I buried you, so fucking be it." His eyes shined with determination as well as unshed tears Izuku could see were still there, threatening to spill, and his hand grabbed Izuku's hair forcefully, bordering on painful but not quite crossing that line. "You gonna prove me wrong and become a fucking pro, or not, damn nerd?" He took a deep breath and then spoke in a barely softer tone. "I don't need your fucking forgiveness, but I'm still gonna try and right some fucking wrongs. If I wanna be a hero I have to, right?"

Izuku blinked the salty water from the corners of his eyes and reached back for the notebook that was teetering dangerously on the edge of the hospital bed, pulling it back over his lap and nodding wordlessly. To his shock, Katsuki ruffled his hair before lifting his hand away, rubbing back at his eyes before growling to himself with a shake of his head. "Better get out of this fucking place soon, then." He barked, turning towards the exit and making to leave. "Or I'm gonna come drag you out myself."

Izuku leaned back against his pillows with a shuddering breath as he watched the other leave. Everything he said was swimming around in his thoughts, seeming all too unrealistic and much too optimistic especially coming from Katsuki. But still… There was a tiny spark in Izuku's chest as he closed his eyes, his mother coming into the room after the other sent her back in, most like. Izuku wasn't sure if he was supposed to let himself dare to hope, his depressive thoughts shouting back at him that it was useless and would only hurt him further. After all, that was what had always happened in the past. Sighing, he felt hands running through his hair gently, soft words ringing in his ears and lulling him back to sleep.

Maybe… Maybe tomorrow would be a better day than the one before.

 **NOTE:** **This was an idea that I had that is almost a character study on Bakugou and how he would react to the heavy consequences that his reckless actions can really have. I am not entirely sure if this will ever have a continuation but I wanted to post what I had of it so far anyway because it had a relatively open-ended but solid conclusion and I really liked the way it turned out!**

 **Hope you enjoyed reading it too and feel free to leave any feedback you may have!**


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